


so many people are gonna love you

by georgina_bulsara



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: Allusion to Eating Disorder, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, F/F, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Internalized Homophobia, Mild Angst, Miscommunication, POV Alternating, Sharing a Bed, no prison this takes place in a starbucks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:53:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29127522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgina_bulsara/pseuds/georgina_bulsara
Summary: Lorna Morello is the cutest barista Nicky has ever seen, and she happens to work at the Starbucks right next to Nicky's apartment building. COFFEESHOP AU!
Relationships: Lorna Morello/Nicky Nichols
Comments: 27
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Last fic I finished writing I promised myself I wouldn't post anything before I had completed it. I decided that rule doesn't apply when I'm vacationing in other fandoms! 
> 
> I don't think (?) there's anything that needs a warning for this chapter but just to be safe for this fic as a whole: swearing, drug addiction, internalised homophobia. If anything else comes up I'll throw up a warning in the chapter notes, but in general I'm not writing angst here because the show gave me enough of that lol

“Double shot espresso for Nicky…Nichols!” rang the perky voice of the barista, a dark-haired girl whose face was barely visible over the pick-up counter. The green Starbucks visor partially shadowed the quizzical look on her face as she set down the cardboard cup.

Nicky side-stepped a loud family with two kids (who brings children to a coffeeshop?) to pick up her daily caffeine fix. The dark-haired barista was still standing there, as if she didn’t have the elaborate drink orders of ten more people to get started on. Up close, Nicky could see her perfectly made-up doll face, the name tag that said ‘Lorna’, the just-so soft curls that her chin-length hair fell into. Nicky couldn’t help but give her a once-over before reaching for her coffee.

“Thanks, kid.”

The barista’s eyes were a beautiful deep brown, and her gaze was soft but slightly puzzled. Nicky lingered at the counter—she didn’t have anywhere better to be, not until her shift at the radio station started, and any distraction til then was welcome. She raised an eyebrow at the cute brunette, inviting her to say something.

“Is that a joke name, Nicky Nichols?” she finally replied, with a smile. “Like, do you just use that at coffeeshops so you can make someone say Nicky Nichols?”

“Think my name is funny, huh?”

The girl’s smile turned into a flustered gesture. “Oh, I didn’t mean to make fun of it, if that’s your real name.” She brought her hands nervously to the front of her apron, smoothing them over the fabric.

“So you would make fun of it if I told you it was a fake name?” Nicky leaned forward to rest her arm on the counter, smirking to let the barista know she was being flirtatious and not an entitled customer who was liable to leave a shitty Yelp review or ask to speak to the manager. There was no response except for non-committal head shakes and a shifty glance towards the door. Nicky took pity on her. “I’m just fuckin' with you, my real name actually sounds even more like a joke than my nickname. Some cunt thought it’d be totally reasonable to name her child Nicole Nichols.” She accompanied her statement with the appropriate eye roll and a careless sweep of her hair. Usually she would never share her birth name with anyone, but in this instance it seemed like a small price to pay to see someone laugh.

“Oh, well that is funny,” giggled the barista. She had faint dimples when she smiled, enough to keep Nicky’s own smile plastered on her face like a love-struck clown.

“So what’s your name, something much more reasonable and imaginative, that didn’t get you bullied at school?”

A bashful dip of the head, then the brown eyes met hers again. “It’s Lorna. Lorna Morello.” It sounded so good in her voice, like that should be the name that all baristas call out when a coffee order is ready.

“Hm, what is that, German?”

Lorna let out a loud, adorable laugh. “No,” she exclaimed, “it’s Italian!” Nicky stared at her for a split second, then they both laughed in unison until another barista called out, "Morello, two caramel frappuccinos for Michael, where are they?"

Lorna turned her head, snapping out of her carefree moment to get back into work mode. “Coming right up!” She glanced back at Nicky, but the bright expression from before was replaced with a standard customer-service smile. “Enjoy your coffee,” she said perkily before spinning back into the fast-paced choreography of brewing, foaming, and pouring coffee with her fellow baristas.

Nicky was somewhat taken aback by the entire interaction, not sure whether she'd read Lorna's flirtatious attitude correctly, or was just imagining it in her newly-sober state. This sober lifestyle that she was trying to stick with after spending no less than five months in the hospital detoxing and recovering from a heart infection was doing strange things to her perception of reality. She was in a new apartment, in a new neighborhood, working a new job and with a new sponsor. It was expected that it would take some adjusting to her slightly altered lifestyle, but it appalled her that she couldn't get an exact read on this Morello girl.

* * *

Nicky went to the Starbucks again the next morning. Generally she preferred a less corporate coffeeshop environment, with better music and bigger muffins, but the Starbucks was literally on the same block as her building, and she wasn't about to go walking all over town before having coffee. An added perk, it looked like Morello was on duty again, this time working the register.

When Nicky finally got to the front of the line, she was thrilled to witness Lorna's facial expression shift from forced politeness to a spark of recognition. "You're back!" she said. Nicky thought there was something different about her today, even more noticeably beautiful, and she realised that it was the bright red lipstick. If it weren't for the Starbucks uniform, she'd look like a 1940s film star.

"What can I say, I'm not immune to the unique powers of the coffee bean."

"Same as yesterday, Nicky Nichols?" Lorna enunciated her full name as if it were the winning answer on a gameshow. Nicky cheered inwardly that Lorna remembered it, not that it was a particularly difficult name to remember. Maybe getting her into bed would be easy after all—which, incidentally, Nicky had decided in the last 24 hours that she would very much like to do.

"Ehhh, I think I'd like something a little sweeter today. Could I get a vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso?"

"Of course, small, medium, or large?"

"Medium, please."

Lorna grabbed a cup and scribbled the order on it, then rang up the total on the register. It might have been Nicky's imagination, but it seemed like she was moving at a slower pace than she had with the other customers, prolonging the transaction and asking extra sweetly if she wanted her receipt. Nicky considered writing down her phone number on the receipt and slipping it back to Lorna as a clear indication of where her interests lay, but there were too many people behind her in line and she didn't want to cause problems in what was already a tedious job. She smiled at Lorna in thanks, then moved down to the other end of the counter to wait for her drink.

When Nicky's name was called by another barista, she took her latte over to a window seat where she could still see the counter if she sat at an angle. Lorna had written her name on the cup in sharpie, followed by a smiley face. Nicky wondered if she did that for everyone, or if it was another sign in her favour. Either way, Nicky was going to take it as an indication to stay on track. Nicky deserved this. It was time for the involuntary dry spell to end, and better that she do it with a sweet Starbucks barista than go looking for pussy somewhere less sponsor-approved.

She took out her notebook from her shoulder bag, a multi-purpose sketchbook that she used for everything from journalling, to grocery lists, to scribbling song lyrics angrily when she was in a mood. In between sips of the foamy vanilla latte, she sketched the likeness of Lorna Morello in the corner of a fresh page.

Watching her work, Nicky started to get a better sense of who Lorna was. She was very cheery, charming to assholes who barely made eye contact with her, smiling all the time even if it didn't always reach her eyes. There was something darker beneath the facade, though, something more than met the eye that made Nicky curious to get to know Lorna better. Which was not a thought she usually had about the woman she was pursuing.

Nicky hesitated for a moment, wondering if she should be trying to make friends with Lorna rather than trying to sleep with her. After all, her new, drug-free friends were few and far between, and she could use a new social circle. But there was no rule saying that Lorna couldn't be both a friend and a lay.

The coffeeshop was starting to get a lunch rush, and Nicky realised she only had fifteen minutes before she'd agreed to meet her neighbour Boo to go over the dog-sitting instructions for the long weekend. She carefully tore out the corner where she'd doodled Lorna, scrawling her phone number on the back and signing it -NN.

The register was busy, and Lorna had been replaced by a co-worker. Nicky looked around, wondering if she'd have to risk leaving the drawing in the hands of someone else and trusting them to give it to Lorna, or just plan on coming back later. Then she saw her, wiping down a table at the back by the bathroom. She was wearing skin-tight jeans and a black polo underneath the green apron, and those kinds of sneakers that had a little bit of a heel built in.

Nicky stood admiring Lorna's figure for a moment before going over to her. She wasn't nervous, per se. She talked up girls all the time, and she didn't lack confidence in that regard. She didn't think Lorna was going to reject her either, so the nerves she was feeling didn't really make sense. Nicky chalked it up to feeling bad for interrupting Lorna while she was at work.

She walked over to the table Lorna was cleaning, standing directly in front of her and waiting for her to notice. Lorna's gaze travelled slowly from Nicky's scuffed combat boots to her frayed black hoodie, and finally met her eyes.

* * *

The winter wind was cutting brutally through Nicky's coat as she walked down the street, dog leash in hand and music blasting into her eardrums. This was her first winter in the city since getting clean. The bitter cold was sinking into her body in a way that made her miss the days of being too high to notice things like the splitting dry skin on her hands and the way her nose and ears were burning from exposure to the wind. The thing she most wanted that wasn't a narcotic or nicotine was a warm latte.

She wasn't sure if stopping at the Starbucks by her apartment was the best idea, though. It had been three days, and Lorna still hadn't texted or called. Which confused Nicky, because Lorna had seemed incredibly receptive to Nicky's flirtations when she'd given her the drawing. Her entire face had lit up and she'd praised Nicky's artistic skills, had even put a hand on Nicky's arm and squeezed it lightly. Nicky had been sure she'd be receiving a "please fuck me" message before the day was done. But then it didn't come and it didn't come, and she realised that maybe Lorna wasn't going to make the next move. Nicky would have to make the next move, but was it worth it? Was it worth it if Lorna was the type of girl to completely ignore a very clear invitation to hook up, when Nicky could easily get laid by going to any bar or installing a dating app on her phone?

Whether pursuing Lorna was a good idea or not, she did really want a warm beverage. She rounded the corner on her block and ducked into the warm coffee-aroma atmosphere of Starbucks, Ginger the golden-retriever trailing behind her eagerly.

Immediately she felt eyes on her, and with one glance to the cash register she was met with Lorna's intense gaze. She looked happy to see her, and waved enthusiastically as Nicky made her way to the counter.

"Who's your friend?" Lorna hoisted herself up onto her stomach to look at Ginger. Nicky tried not to linger too long on Lorna's figure, how good her ass looked in those jeans and the way her shirt made her tits look great.

"Ah, Lorna Morello, meet Ginger, my neighbour's dog. I'm taking care of her this weekend."

Lorna smiled widely, not taking her eyes off Ginger as she cooed and showered her with affection. Nicky almost felt herself getting a little jealous of the dog. "You're such a good girl, aren't you?"

Nicky gave Ginger a rough pat on the head. "No, she isn't really, she puked on my shoes yesterday."

Lorna stood up straight, laughing and looking back at Nicky. "Aww, I'm sure she didn't mean to." Her eyes twinkled as she pouted, as if she were asking for forgiveness on the dog's behalf. "What can I get you?"

"Just a regular latte, please." She watched Lorna select a cup, scribble on it with sharpie, then ring up the order, regularly looking at Nicky out the corner of her eyes. _Fuck it_ , Nicky thought. Lorna was hot, Nicky was hot _for_ her, and she decided it was worth a shot. "Hey, when's your shift end? I live right around the corner from here, you can come up and play with Ginger if you want, when you get off work."

Lorna took Nicky's credit card, absentmindedly brushing her fingers against her hand as her eyes momentarily glazed over, staring at a point just to the left of Nicky. Then she snapped back into focus, giving Nicky a nervous smile. "I get out of here at three, but I gotta be home to babysit my brother at 4:30. I guess I could come up for a bit though." She looked so sheepish and unsure, Nicky almost wanted to reassure her that it was only a casual invitation to spend time with the dog, with no sexual favours expected in return. Which, of course, it would be if that's what Lorna wanted. Nicky never pushed herself onto girls if they didn't absolutely, 100% want it.

"How 'bout this, you just ring my buzzer when you're done with your shift, if you want to and you have time. It's apartment 7D in the building right next door, I'll be there, just chilling with Ginger, and we can hang out a bit if you want. No pressure."

Lorna replied with a true smile, the kind that made her cheeks look like they were just begging to be smooched. Nicky couldn't resist returning it with a grin, and when she walked out of the coffeeshop with her warm drink, she couldn't help but feel the extra bounce in her step. "C'mon Ginger, you and me are gonna have a _great_ afternoon," she muttered under her breath as she and Ginger climbed the stairs to her loft.

* * *

Nicky was smoking out the door to the balcony when she heard the intercom ring. There was probably no way that her apartment would ever _not_ smell like smoke, but she figured if Lorna was coming over, she'd at least try to limit how much fresh smoke there was floating around the place. She'd even lit a candle, some evergreen-forest-scented shit, to try to freshen it up.

She put out her cigarette on the railing of the balcony and went to pick up the receiver. "Yeah?"

"Nicky, it's Lorna, I'm done with my shift!"

"Ay, great, c'mon up, kid." She buzzed her in then did a last minute sweep for any clutter in the living area. Ginger was taking up prime real estate on the couch, but other than that things were mostly clean.

At the hesitant knock on the door, Nicky sauntered over to open it, playing it cool. Lorna was standing there, out of her Starbucks apron and clutching a purse on her shoulder. Nicky ushered her in, catching the faint whiff of what smelled like vanilla as she walked past. Lorna hesitated in the entryway, taking in the open-plan apartment. "Welcome, make yourself at home," Nicky said, gesturing to the couch. Ginger had not twitched an eyelid, still taking up an entire cushion for her nap.

"This is a nice place you got for yourself, Nichols," Lorna said, stepping a little further into the room. "You live here by yourself?"

"Yep, it's a one-bedroom. Don't think I make enough for rent though, this place is owned by my shit-stain father and he's letting me stay here out of the goodness of his heart until I'm back on my feet." She'd rather not get into details with Lorna, especially if it was going to decrease her chances of sleeping with her, so she left it at that.

"Well it's real nice." Lorna looked around appreciatively. "Hey, you've even got a balcony!"

Nicky gave her the whole tour of the loft, amending it to "tour of places we could fuck" in her head. There was the kitchen counter, which Nicky sure as hell didn't use to chop vegetables, meaning that it was a clean surface for fucking. The living room, with a very soft sofa and even a nice rug that would make getting down on her knees more comfortable. There was the shower in the bathroom, which was a given. Nicky's room was standard, nothing very interesting. But she liked it. There was no bed frame, her mattress simply rested on a box spring, and was comfortable as fuck. Would probably be even _more_ comfortable with Lorna in it.

"There's not a lotta stuff," Lorna remarked as she took in the bedroom. She said it like it was a good thing, something she was envious of.

"Yeah, well, I haven't been here that long, and I'm trying for a loosely minimalist approach."

"Oh, I don't think it means you hate women if you don't gotta lot of things in your apartment," Lorna said, looking slightly concerned but also a little distracted by the modest collection of vinyl records Nicky kept on a shelf beneath the window.

"What?" Nicky wracked her brains for what Lorna could possibly mean, coming up empty. "I can assure you, I do _not_ hate w-" It dawned on her, right at the moment that Lorna looked back up at her. Nicky knew she could not conceal the incredulous look on her face, but she hoped Lorna didn't think she was teasing her. "Lorna, I think you confused minimalist with misogynist."

"Oh." The afternoon sun was peaking out from from behind some clouds, shining a beam directly onto Lorna's face. Her brown eyes became molten in the light. She looked at Nicky with an intensity that was greater than any interest she took in Nicky's interior decorating approach. "So if you don't hate women...does that mean you love them? Like..." She trailed off, her hand delicately travelling along the edge of the shelf absentmindedly.

Nicky chuckled. "Love women as in like to fuck them? Yeah, I do." She stepped a little closer; Lorna didn't flinch or back away from her. "Do you?"

The movement of Lorna's head as she shook no was so subtle, her eyes looking like a deer caught in headlights, that Nicky feared that this would be too much too fast. Lorna was a straight, maybe bi-curious girl who was friendly and flirty with everyone, and now she was probably feeling pressured into sex with a near stranger. Nicky decided that she'd just offer her something to eat or drink, wake Ginger's lazy ass up for some entertainment, and hope that she hadn't creeped Lorna out too much. Maybe there was still room to be friends.

Lorna's melodic voice broke through Nicky's inner monologue. "How would that even work?" She blinked, tilted her face towards Nicky's and didn't break eye contact.

"You really wanna know? I don't want to make you uncomfortable." If Nicky stepped any closer, she'd be able to feel Lorna's breath on her face.

"No, I'm not uncomfortable," Lorna shrugged.

Nicky grabbed her wrist, gently. "I can show you if you want."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pretty sure i don't remember how coffeeshops work....so sorry if i made stuff up lol
> 
> i'm aware from poking around in the nichorello tag that probably not a lot of people will read this, but if you do, know that i am incredibly grateful! please don't be afraid to leave a comment if you'd like


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: heavy on the internalised homophobia in this chapter, also allusion to an eating disorder (i think that's all, if there's anything else you think i should tag for lmk). it's a little more angsty than i promised, but things'll get better!
> 
> happy friday! i wanted to post this before the wknd so there might be a lot of typos that i'll come back and fix later ;)

"Earth to Lorna! Hey, pass me the butter, would ya?" Anthony waved his hand back and forth in Lorna's line of sight until she finally snapped out of her daze. She was at the dinner table at home, surrounded by her rowdy and messy family, eating frozen lasagne and garlic bread. She'd barely touched her plate, even though if she didn't eat it quickly, it was liable to be inhaled by one of her male relatives. 

"You OK, Lorn?" asked Franny. "Anthony didn't give you any trouble this afternoon, did he?" 

"No, everything was fine," Lorna replied over the sound of the television in the living room. "I'm just feeling kinda tired, I think I'll go up to bed early." She slid her plate down to Anthony's end of the table, along with the butter he'd asked for, and excused herself. 

Once she had a flight of stairs and her bedroom door separating her from the chaos downstairs, she felt like she could finally think. She hadn't really gotten the chance to since getting home, just in time to keep an eye on not only her brother, but also her two nephews when they all got home from school and Franny went to work. 

Lorna couldn't tell Franny where she'd been during the hour in between getting off work and coming home. She wasn't even sure if she wanted to acknowledge it to herself. It wasn't what girls like her did, and she was honestly surprised by how easily she'd just let go of her morals. 

It wasn't just that she'd slept with a woman—which was already, morally speaking, not great. That woman was also a perfect stranger to her, someone she had served coffee to a couple times. The relationship was customer and server—Lorna was pretty sure there was some law that defined that as workplace harassment, or imbalance of power or something. 

But she didn't feel that it was entirely her fault. Sure, she didn't have to press the buzzer to Nicky's apartment after she got off work, but Nicky had asked her so nicely. And as soon as she'd stepped into Nicky's clean, well-lit loft, Lorna had felt something come over her. A sort of haze, making it hard for her to think straight. Or hear correctly, apparently. Nicky probably thought she was stupid for not knowing what minimalism was, but truthfully she'd just been a bit overwhelmed. By how welcoming Nicky was being, by how good her apartment smelled, and by the intoxicating feeling of someone paying such close attention to her. 

It wasn't that Lorna was unfamiliar with attention. Men catcalled her regularly, sweet-talked her in line at the grocery store or at the bank, which sometimes made her feel pretty and other times made her feel like she'd rather live in a convent, or some other place where there were only women around. The attention Nicky gave her was not wholly different—Lorna could tell by the way her eyes flicked over Lorna's body that Nicky must think she was attractive. But it didn't bother Lorna the way leering men did—if anything, the way Nicky looked at her sent a pleasant shiver of electricity down her spine. 

When Nicky had given her the drawing she'd done, Lorna had felt more than flattered. Not only was it a representation of how Nicky saw her (beautiful, she'd even drawn her in an off-the-shoulder dress instead of her ugly polo shirt), it was also the most romantic thing anyone had done for her in a long time. It was like something out of a romcom, boy meets girl and can't stop thinking about girl, so he draws a picture of her and invites her to prom with it. 

There'd even been a phone number on the back of Nicky's drawing, as clear an invitation as any. But even though the whole scenario was the stuff of Lorna's dreams, the types of little meet-cutes she fantasized about and built entire daydreams out of, there was something wrong. Nicky wasn't a tall, dark-haired leading man who wore hand-knit sweaters, whose name was short for Nicholas. Nicky was short for Nicole, and she _was_ short, barely taller than Lorna, and her hair was long and unruly. By definition, Nicky was the exact opposite of Lorna's dream man. She'd shaken any butterfly feelings of a newly-formed crush when she'd remembered that a blond girl who dressed all in black was not going to be her knight in shining armour. 

She was also curious, though. She couldn't help it. Clearly Nicky saw something in her, and Lorna wanted to know what it was. What was Nicky's idea of the perfect date, and how could it possibly be Lorna? Lorna was a girl, she wasn't going to be the one to text first, or to pay for the meal, or to offer Nicky her letter jacket when it got chilly. What did Nicky expect her to do, then? What would Nicky get out of it? How could it possibly work between two women? 

So when Nicky had given her a straightforward invitation to come upstairs, even under the pretense of getting to play with that adorable dog, Lorna found herself turning right instead of left after clocking out. Her feet had carried her the short distance to the building entrance, where she'd easily found the button next to a sticker labelled **7D - NICHOLS**. 

As she climbed the steps she'd briefly reconsidered, thinking about what her father would say if he found out. She could hear her heartbeat in her ears, the blood rushing as her feat had carried her closer and closer to the seventh floor. In front of Nicky's door, she'd paused to catch her breath and have second thoughts. What if Nicky made her do something she didn't want to do? Worse, what if Nicky made her do something she _did_ want to do? 

Her fist had rapped on the door before she'd had a chance to think through it. Nicky, with a baggy flannel button-down thrown over a black tank top and jeans, had ushered her into one of the nicest apartments Lorna had ever seen. Suddenly all of Lorna's fears had ebbed away, and she'd felt completely at ease, just visiting a friend after work. She remembered how the dog was sleeping soundly on the sofa, like it was the most comfortable, safe place in the world. And the faint smell of pine mixed with cigarette smoke; she could almost smell it now if she held a lock of her hair to her nose.

Lorna snapped out of her self-inflicted spiral of confusing thoughts and began her before-bed rituals. Tomorrow she had to go to work, where she would worry about making coffee and not about the soft touch of Nicky's fingers, running over her body and through her hair. 

She slipped on her pajamas and climbed into bed, the only surface in her cramped room that wasn't covered with clothes, makeup, hair accessories, or junk. She closed her eyes and tried to drift to sleep, but memories of earlier that afternoon kept creeping back into her mind. And they were good memories, sparking a shiver of anticipation in her body.

She remembered the way she'd felt slightly intoxicated by Nicky's presence, more and more light-headed the closer the blond had got to her. The pressure of her fingers on Lorna's wrist, gently guiding her to lie down on the bed. Nicky had hovered over her, hair falling wildly over her shoulders. Lorna had been tempted to hold it back for her, since it seemed like maybe it would get in the way, but then Nicky had leant over to kiss Lorna's neck and it hadn't seemed like her hair was much of a problem at all. Lorna had been overcome with the sensation of Nicky's mouth on her skin, and the frizz of her curls tickling her chin. As Nicky had travelled down the column of her neck towards her torso, she'd looked up and into Lorna's eyes, checking in before going any further. Lorna hadn't been able to do anything more than nod and let Nicky take complete control. Nothing had ever felt that good before, so grounded yet also as if she were floating one degree removed from herself. 

Lorna jolted out of the rerun of what Nicky had done next when a loud crash from her brother's room interrupted the reel in her head. Her hands froze where they had been ghosting along her stomach and breasts, and she immediately felt embarrassed even though she was lying alone in her bedroom. 

Lorna knew, as she drifted asleep, that it was going to be difficult to resist feeling that way again. She nudged her thoughts back towards familiar territory, to long, manly torsos with a soft layer of skin covering the suggestion of abs. The rough bristle of five o'clock shadow and strong, large hands to hold her close. She was waiting for the Tony to her Maria—what had happened with Nicky was just a distraction, a blip in her quest for the perfect romance with the perfect man. 

* * *

"Oh my god, you bumped my hand and messed me up, now your wings are gonna be totally uneven!"

"Well just redo it, there's no one in here, we got time!" 

Lorna removed a warm panini from the toaster oven with prongs and placed it in a paper bag before handing it to one of the straggling customers. She looked over at Flaca (or Marisol, as her name tag read, but everyone called her Flaca) and Maritza, who were working the closing shift with her. Or giggling and doing each other's makeup by the register, more accurately. 

Out of all Lorna's coworkers, Flaca and Maritza (or, as they referred to themselves on the scheduling sheet, Flaritza) weren't so bad. They liked to talk and that made the time pass by faster. If they were on the shift together, they spent the whole time sharing gossip, occasionally switching to Spanish if they thought it was something that really shouldn't be overheard by the customers or other workers. If it was just one of them at work, they'd chat with Lorna about celebrity gossip but nothing more profound than that. 

But for the most part, Flaca and Maritza were inseparable. They bugged the manager to have the schedule switched around if they were put on different shifts. They even hung out with each other outside of work, which Lorna pretended to be appalled by, but which actually made her wish she had a friend as close as that. That she could spend all day working with, and still want to hang around with after clocking out. 

Lorna knew that Flaca and Maritza weren't a couple—Flaca was in a long-suffering relationship with a guy named Ian, and Lorna was pretty sure Maritza had mentioned having a daughter. But seeing them, standing so close together and Maritza resting her hand tenderly on Flaca's cheek as she painted delicately across her eyelids, Lorna could not help noticing how casually intimate they were with each other. 

She checked the clock above the weird abstract painting in the corner—it was a quarter til eight, meaning that she could start cleaning things up and hope that no one came in with a tall order in the next fifteen minutes. While Maritza and Flaca continued to chatter about their plans for the night, Lorna started washing the blenders of their cream and syrup residues. Taking her cue, Flaca went on mop duty and Maritza began counting out the registers. 

There were five minutes til closing time when the door jingled as someone entered. Flaca, Maritza, and Lorna exchanged frustrated glances, even though closing on time was known to be a myth and not an achievable goal. Lorna dried her hands on her apron and turned, only to freeze in her tracks when she saw who had walked in. 

"Hey, Morello, what's good?"

"Nic-Nicky," she stuttered. "Nicole. Nichols." 

Nicky stared back at her with her eyebrows raised, tongue trapped between her teeth as she smiled. "That's my name, but I'm going to regret giving it to you if you go around calling me _Nicole_." She was dressed in her usual all-black attire, and there were flakes of snow nestled in the fur of her coat. Lorna hadn't even noticed that it had started snowing, she'd been so distracted during her shift. Thinking about Nicky. Or concentrating on _not_ thinking about Nicky. 

"I - I'm sorry, I know you don't like it." Lorna could feel herself blushing furiously. She wasn't mad that Nicky had come in right before closing, but she was mad at herself for reacting this way. It had been a week since their last encounter, and Lorna had been on the lookout for that mane of dirty-blond hair. She'd been rehearsing in her head what she'd say if Nicky tried to get her to go up to her apartment again, but somehow that had morphed into some kind of strange daydream: She's back in Nicky's room, and Nicky is holding a handful of records, fanned out like playing cards. Lorna has her eyes closed, and she feels the records with her fingers before selecting one. Nicky places it on the turntable and puts the needle down somewhere in the middle; Lorna has to guess the album. 

Scenarios like these had been running through Lorna's head all week, battling with her decision to turn down any potential invitations. It caused her a great deal of confusion. Maybe she didn't need to say no to hanging out with Nicky; she really only needed to say no to letting Nicky's tongue anywhere near her body, because that was where she got off track from her life plan. Being friends with Nicky was fine—maybe she'd even let Lorna do her makeup. 

"Eh, it's alright kid. Listen, I'm really sorry, I know you're about to close, but do you think I could get a plain coffee with a shot of espresso? Gotta work the night shift and I'm not about to get drowsy and let Luschek do all the talking, ruin the reputation of the station." 

Lorna remembered then that Nicky worked at some kind of radio station; she wondered if there was some way she could tune in to hear it. It wasn't the time for idle chatter though—Nicky seemed in a bit of a rush, and so was she. 

"Of course, it's no problem," she said, going over to the espresso machine. While she waited for it to brew, Nicky leaned casually over the counter and watched her, her mouth quirked to one side. 

"Thanks, doll," she said with a wink when Lorna handed her the warm cup and took the payment. "See you around." Nicky stomped out the door with her combat boots leaving a trail of muddy snow that was going to have to be mopped up. Lorna nervously tucked her hair behind her ear and got back to work, hoping the other girls hadn't overheard the pet name. 

As soon as the door swung shut, Flaca was speaking excitedly. "Oh my gosh, Lorna, you didn't tell us you were gay! Was that your girlfriend? She looks like the total opposite of you, but you know what they say—" Flaca and Maritza locked eyes and exclaimed in unison, "Opposites attract!" 

"Yeah, and while I totally think she could do with like, less mascara and maybe some smokey eye, she's really pretty!" Maritza added.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Lorna squeaked, willing her voice to get back to its regular pitch. "I'm going steady with a _great_ guy, his name is Paul, and I am _not_ gay," she insisted with leveled confidence. 

"Man, _alright_ ," said Flaca with a flick of her long glossy hair, "I was just calling the vibes between you two. I'm really good at reading body language, and she totally looked like she was ready to climb inside your womb." She chuckled at the implication. "And you were totally mirroring her, that's a classic indication that you're into someone." 

"Yeah, and that girl has been in here all three times I've worked this week, and she always kinda hangs around like she's looking for someone. But not like another customer, she's always looking towards the back like there's someone working here that she wants to talk to. So we're not crazy for thinking you were dating." Maritza pursed her lips and finished locking up the other register. 

"Besides," continued Flaca, "I've never seen this _Paul_ guy around here, if he's such a great guy, why doesn't he come meet you at work?" 

Lorna was trying her hardest to keep the tears accumulating in her eyes from escaping onto her cheeks. It was making it hard to see the display case she was wiping down. She was saved from having to say anything, having to come up with some elaborate lie about where her imagined boyfriend might have to be instead of meeting her at work, by Maritza swiping at Flaca with a wet rag. 

"Um, bitch, look who's talking! When have I ever seen Ian step in here while you were working?" 

The two girls continued arguing and roasting each other like sisters, Lorna's interaction with Nicky completely forgotten. Lorna went into the back to get supplies to restock the bar, trying to go through the closing checklist as fast as she could. The sooner she could get out of here, the better. 

* * *

Later, after a freezing cold walk from the metro station nearest her house, she was alone in her room. She was alone and she was mad, mad at Nicky for turning up and acting like that, even though Lorna knew she didn't really have any other way of acting. Mad at Flaca and Maritza for assuming things they knew nothing about. But most of all, mad at herself for letting all this affect her so much. 

She dumped her bag on the bed, then dug through it to find the groceries she had bought earlier that day. A box of Little Debbie cosmic brownies, a pack of sliced white bread, a can of tomato sauce, a bottle of orange soda. She tore open the box of brownies and unwrapped the first one. Then the next, and after that, another.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! and a sincere thank you to everyone who commented on the first chapter, it really helps with writing motivation!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> used a workskin for the texting part of this chapter, if it's hard to read it should still be read-able with the style turned off, lmk if not though!

Nicky's knee wouldn't stop jiggling. It was moving of its own accord, she wasn't telling it to carry on like a hyperactive woodpecker. The bouncing annoyed her as much as it probably annoyed everyone else in the studio. She had two more segments to record before she could go home. 

It was probably all the coffee she'd been drinking lately. She had a high tolerance for any drug, caffeine included, and she was used to guzzling down coffee like it was mineral water. She admitted it was unhealthy, but hey, it was better than the alternative. Coffee and cigarettes beat crack and heroin in terms of risk of sudden death. 

But lately she'd been having probably twice her usual daily intake of coffee—every morning, she had a modest cup with her cigarette and oatmeal pie. That was routine, along with an afternoon espresso to get her through that part of the day that was always low-energy for her. On top of that, though, and depending on the day, she'd go down to Starbucks either mid-morning, early afternoon, or early evening. It depended on her flexible work schedule, but it also depended on Lorna's work schedule, which Nicky's subconscious had memorized without her really realising. 

Drinking that much coffee was terrible. It made her have to go to the bathroom all the time, it dehydrated her and made her more fidgety than usual, and it did horrible things to her circadian rhythm. The worst was when Lorna worked the closing shift, because it meant that Nicky would stop by and inevitably order a coffee, under the pretense of needing it for work, and then figuratively pay for it later when she was tossing and turning in bed with no hope for a pleasant sleep. She was almost sure that Lorna added in an extra shot, free of charge, thinking that she was helping Nicky stay awake for work, but actually ensuring that she stayed not only awake, but also exhausted, for hours past the acceptable bedtime of a functional, adult woman. 

Tonight was going to be one of those nights. And not just because of the 40oz of bean juice she'd downed between the hours of 4 and 8pm. No, she had other things that kept her up at night that had nothing to do with substance abuse. 

It had been a while since her insomnia had been fueled by thoughts about a girl. It felt a little silly if she was honest, a little adolescent, to be thinking so much about one girl in particular. Nicky considered herself a bit of a sexual Steve Jobs, always moving on to the next big thing. She didn't settle, she didn't even date really. Girls liked her for a fun time, but they didn't stick around because Nicky didn't want them to—the fun times were inevitably short-lived.

It had been about two weeks since Lorna had gotten in touch with her sapphic side courtesy of Nicky's experienced mouth and hands. It was no-strings-attached sex, but Lorna had seemed to really enjoy it, and afterwards she'd even asked if she should return the favour. Nicky had reassured her that she was first and foremost a giver, that she got plenty of pleasure from that alone. But when she'd seen Lorna off, it was under the assumption that she'd be back for more, eager to explore the intricacies of lesbian sex. Which Nicky would gladly show her—she was sure their fling hadn't run its course quite yet. 

Except that Lorna hadn't been exactly crawling back into Nicky's bed these past two weeks...if anything, she'd been pretending like it'd never happened. Nicky could handle a rejection if she could understand where it was coming from, but Lorna hadn't given her any clues. She'd just stopped drawing smiley faces on Nicky's coffee cups, and started looking around shiftily whenever Nicky tried to talk to her over the counter. Maybe Lorna just needed time, maybe Nicky had made her see God or something, and she needed a bit of a breather to readjust her worldview. 

She thought about the chances that Lorna was slowly shutting her out as she jiggled her leg and recorded the radio segments on autopilot. 

"So, you'll be ready to record the commentary to go along with the release of that new All Dogs record tomorrow, right?" Nicky's very lazy sound engineer and occasional co-host, Joel Luschek, was always acting as if he were her boss, even though they both answered to Joe Caputo, the station manager. 

"Have I ever _not_ been ready, Luschek?" she shot back as she zipped up her coat, fully aware of the irony. She'd been fired from almost every job she'd had before getting clean, essentially for not turning up ready to work. 

"Just don't leave me hanging, Nichols, I haven't even listened to the album all the way through yet so you really have to do the talking." 

Nicky grunted a half-hearted response and headed out of the soundproof studio. She felt beat, even though she hadn't been at work for that long. Lighting a cigarette, she made her way home, hoping she had something edible in her kitchen. 

She passed by the closed Starbucks, peering through the windows at the service counter out of habit. She was already craving her morning coffee, probably around 10:30 to avoid peak traffic and catch Lorna towards the end of her shift, so she could try asking her out for lunch, again. Nicky was getting used to Lorna's convenient excuses for not hanging out with her, but what could she say, she was stubborn and optimistic. She wouldn't stop asking unless Lorna explicitly told her to. 

The apartment was freezing cold, and the only food she had was a nearly-expired frozen pizza. She really needed to go grocery shopping tomorrow, but she wasn't sure when she'd fit it in. She'd told Luschek she was ready to record the radio segment, but actually she still hadn't listened to the second half of the album she was supposed to be commenting on. 

In an attempt at productivity, since she'd probably be awake for a while anyway, Nicky cranked up the oven temperature for her sad margherita pizza and brought her speakers out from her bedroom so she could listen to the album while she ate.

It turned out to be a pretty stupid attempt at multitasking. She tried to take notes on each of the songs on her laptop, but the pizza grease on her fingers kept getting all over the keyboard. Then Boo knocked on her door to tell her to turn down the music, so she begrudgingly switched over to headphones. Just as she was about to finally listen to a song all the way through, a text from an unknown number popped up on her phone.

**[XXX]:** Hi Nicky, are you home from work yet?  
  


Nicky wracked her brain for who could be texting her. She supposed it could be one of her old friends from the junkie days, whose phone numbers she no longer had—she didn't know how they'd have gotten her number though, and besides she wouldn't be surprised if half of them were serving prison sentences at this point. Curiosity got the better of her. 

**[N]:** who is this?  
  
**[XXX]:** Oh sorry, it's lorna! you gave me your number a while ago...  
  


Nicky yanked her earbuds out of her ears. She'd completely forgotten about the scrap of paper with a drawing and her number scrawled on the back. After the way Lorna had been acting since they slept together, Nicky was honestly surprised that she still had it. And she hadn't asked Lorna for her number, since she'd been getting closer and closer to just accepting that she'd only see her in Starbucks, and that maybe their relationship was better confined to the chatty customer/friendly barista realm.

**[N]:** of course, i remember! im home from work, how are you?  
  
**[L]:** i'm good. i'm sorry i haven't been able to talk all that much lately, i guess things have just been busy at work  
  
**[N]:** it's all good, no need to apologize for people buying coffee  
  
**[L]:** some people *cough cough* just can't resist it i guess!  
  
**[N]:** haha you got me  
  
**[L]:** where did you say you work?  
  
**[N]:** i dj for a radio station  
  
**[L]:** you must know so much about music  
  
**[N]:** only because i spend the majority of my time listening to it ;) my brain is just a mush of sound waves at this point  
  
**[L]:** so if i wanted to, could i get starbucks to play your radio station instead of what they usually have on there?  
  
**[N]:** hmm i'm not sure, don't they have some like corporate, pre-approved playlist they have to play in there?  
  
**[L]:** i have no idea, it's like the same songs every day though  
  
**[L]:** how could i listen to your station?

Nicky was thrilled by this reconnection with Lorna, initiated by her and not by Nicky's sweet-talking from over the counter. She considered a flirty response, inviting Lorna to come over to her loft right now and hear a yet-to-be aired example of what her show sounded like. But in the end, she just told her the details of the station, and what times her music generally played. They continued texting for awhile, Nicky completely forgetting that she had her laptop open to her notes document. 

When Lorna finally said that she needed to go to bed if she was going to make it to her shift the next day, Nicky felt bad for keeping her up. She also had a renewed sense of worth though, almost a motivation to try to set her alarm and get up early to prepare for her radio show, because Lorna wanted to hear it, and Lorna had texted her first, and maybe she'd want to sleep with her again or at least hang out more. 

* * *

Lorna was opening back up to Nicky, albeit it very slowly. She started texting Nicky whenever she tuned into her radio show, practically fangirling about how cool it was to hear her voice _on the radio_. Lorna was shy when she saw her in person, but the smiley faces on the Starbucks cups started making a come back. 

Nicky still hadn't been able to convince Lorna to hang out outside of the coffeeshop, but it was mostly because their schedules hadn't been lining up to accommodate it. Nicky cursed Caputo and whoever managed Starbucks regularly for what she saw as a major interference in her seduction tactics. There was nothing sexy about her vibrating in front of the Starbucks counter from too much caffeine, breathing coffee-breath into Lorna's face. If Nicky could take her out, maybe to a concert and then back to her place, things would be going closer to the pace Nicky wished they were. But baby steps were something, at least.

At this point, Nicky was familiar with most of Lorna's coworkers, and they knew her. If one of the nice baristas was working with Lorna, like Flaca, Taystee, or even Gina if she was in a good mood, they'd swap tasks with Lorna so that she could talk with Nicky as long as possible. Lorna's more douche-y coworkers (Tiffany, Leanne, and George aka Pornstache, to name the more difficult ones) would suddenly get rigid about company policy whenever Lorna tried to switch off with them. 

This afternoon Nicky wandered in to find Lorna, Flaca, and Maritza playing MASH gleefully behind the counter while a handful of hipster customers worked on laptops. Nicky had gotten off work early (Luschek, against all odds, had actually done her a favour and recorded the ad segments that usually fell on her agenda), and she knew that Lorna's shift would be ending within the hour. 

"Fifteen kids, that's not even fucking funny," Flaca groaned, while Lorna and Maritza shook with laughter.

Nicky sidled up to the counter. "Sorry to break up what sounds like a horrifying game."

Lorna spun around with her hand on her hip. "Not for me, I'm going to live in a mansion and marry Brad Pitt according to this game."

"Yeah, but it also said you're gonna have five stinky little kids and flip burgers for a living," added Maritza.

Lorna rolled her eyes. "I'll be able to quit my job if I'm married to Brad Pitt, and five kids is totally manageable by Italian standards," she said matter-of-factly. 

Nicky shook her head, finding it kind of hilarious how seriously they were taking a stupid game. She could understand getting bored at work though, which, after all, was why she spent so much time in Starbucks. So Lorna could have a distraction. 

"Regular coffee order for Ms. Nichols?" Lorna asked, already reaching for one of the bigger cups. 

"Ehh, I know drinking coffee is practically my personality at this point, but I think I'm actually going to pass. Practise some self-restraint." 

"Is everything OK?" Lorna said in mock-concern. "Have you suffered from a head injury?"

"I think I have a brain injury for thinking my job could cover a budget of hourly Starbucks orders," Nicky shot back. 

Lorna smirked and raised an eyebrow. "Well...I could maybe, y'know, make an extra drink by accident. It'd be such a shame to waste it..." 

Nicky shook her head. "Na, I actually think if I have any more coffee today I might self-induce a heart attack, thanks anyway though. You free after this?"

"I am!" Lorna looked excited, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright. "I was gonna text you, because my sister's shift got moved so I don't have to be home to babysit! I'm free for the rest of the day once I finish here!"

Lorna's excitement was contagious. Nicky felt a flutter in her chest that wasn't caffeine-related—maybe they'd finally get to spend time together. 

"That's great, kid. You wanna hang out? We could go somewhere, get something to eat, see a movie? Anything you want."

They were interrupted by a new customer walking in, so Nicky left it that Lorna would come up to her apartment once she clocked out, and they would decide from there. Nicky left the Starbucks, but not before Lorna could slip her a gingerbread biscotti from next to the register. 

* * *

"It's _really_ cold out there now, someone was saying there's some kind of ice storm coming," Lorna said as she flopped onto Nicky's couch an hour later. 

"Yeah, I'm starting to think going out might not be such a good idea, I can almost feel the wind shaking the building. Maybe we should just stay in?" Lorna didn't look like she was very set on moving off of the couch, so Nicky could guess the answer. 

"Definitely. But wait, you've got food, right?" 

"What, d'you think I'm an animal?" Nicky said as she got up, secretly crossing her fingers that there was something in the kitchen that didn't make her look like a college student on a ramen-only diet. "Uhhh we might have to cook though. I've got pasta, tomato sauce, and...maybe enough ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies." 

Lorna sprang out of her seat with a newfound energy. "I love cooking! Please tell me you have parmesan cheese though, I don't think I could eat spaghetti without it." 

Nicky scanned the fridge again and pulled out a nearly-expired bag of grated parmesan. "Lucky for your Italian ass, I think this might still be alright." 

"Thank goodness." Lorna joined Nicky in the kitchen and started opening cabinets, pulling out pans that Nicky hadn't used more than a couple times. "Is it too early to eat dinner? Should I start cooking now, or should we wait?" 

"I could eat," Nicky said, crossing her arms and leaning against the counter. "Besides, if this wind keeps up, who knows if the power'll go out. Better cook now while we can."

"Good thinking, let me just text my sister to let her know where I am, and I'll start on the pasta. Why don't you fill the pot with water?" 

Nicky proceeded to assist Lorna with very minor deeds in preparation for dinner, but Lorna banished her from the kitchen when she tried putting the pasta in the water before turning the burner on. So she brought in her speakers and plugged her phone in with a Spotify playlist she found called "Italian Dinner Music." It cracked her up to see Lorna there in her kitchen, the perfect picture of domesticity, swaying to "Mambo Italiano" while she stirred a pan of simmering tomato sauce. 

Nicky pulled out all the candles she had, under the pretence of being prepared for a potential power outage. But actually, against her will, she admitted that the evening kind of called for romantic lighting. You don't just eat a home-cooked Italian meal with a beautiful girl under the harsh beam of an overhead light. 

They sat down at the table when it was all ready, across from each other like civilized adults on a date at a fancy restaurant. 

"Ah, it's so nice to have quiet here and not have to fight off a bunch of hungry boys for my helping of food." Lorna slurped up a stray noodle falling from her mouth and immediately started twirling her fork into her spaghetti for more. There was already smattering of red sauce across her chin. 

"Sounds awful. You're welcome here any time, you know. This is fucking delicious. Do you always cook for your family?" 

"Not really. It's too much effort for so many people, plus they don't appreciate it. But when we were little my Ma would always cook dinner for us. That's where I learned all the traditional dishes, manicotti, lasagne, fettuccine alfredo..." Lorna continued reeling off increasingly ridiculous-sounding Italian words. 

"Jesus Christ I feel like I just got off the boat in Naples," Nicky laughed, eternally amused. Lorna looked so happy when she was talking about things she loved, it made Nicky want to keep her talking forever. 

"Well one thing I've never made is cannoli. Only my grandmother can do that. She was from Naples." Lorna lowered her eyes, looking kind of bashful as she finished off the last of her pasta. 

"I love that you know how to cook," Nicky reassured her, in case she got the idea that it was something to be ashamed of enjoying. "Personally, I can barely trust myself to warm up a frozen pizza correctly." 

Lorna laughed, and in the warm glow of the candles, Nicky had the overwhelming urge to reach forward and tuck the stray curl of dark hair behind Lorna's ear and wipe the smudge of tomato sauce off her chin. 

"You got room for dessert? I'll wash the dishes if you agree to make the cookie dough—the last time I tried, they came out all runny." 

"Eurgh. That is not good, Nicky. I think I'll handle it." Lorna got up, instinctively clearing both their plates. 

"By the way, you've got...you've got a little something on your chin." Before Nicky could reach over to wipe it away, Lorna hurriedly set down the dishes and ran off to the bathroom. Nicky shrugged and started rinsing the plates. 

Lorna came back, clean-faced but looking a little red in the cheeks. Nicky smiled at her, hoping she didn't make her uncomfortable. This evening was going so well, it'd be a shame to ruin it over a little dab of tomato sauce. 

Soon, Lorna had mixed up a smooth cookie dough with the perfect ratio of chocolate chips. She allowed Nicky to help her roll them into balls. By the time they were in the oven, it was past 7pm. 

Nicky scrolled through her playlists. "Any music suggestions? I think I'm actually getting tired of Dean Martin, no offence." 

"Oh, how about that music you were playing on your station the other day? You said it was called somethin' weird. Riot Gore? Rotting Girl?"

Nicky tried to restrain herself from laughing too hard. "You mean Riot Grrrl? Sure, I didn't know you were into that." 

"I like some of it," Lorna shrugged. 

Nicky pressed play on her Sleater-Kinney playlist, knowing that next door Boo was probably about to start seething. As if having to listen to her dog barking all the time wasn't equally annoying. 

Lorna and Nicky jumped up and down (you really couldn't call it dancing) to the up-beat guitar riffs and screamed along with lyrics. The oven timer beeped, and Lorna bounced over to take out the tray of cookies. The apartment was filled with freshly-baked cookie aroma as they cooled off. 

It was in the middle of singing along to "Get Up" that the power suddenly cut off and Nicky and Lorna were left singing to no music in just the weak glow of the candles on the table. 

"Ah shit," said Nicky, moving to the door to the balcony. "That's probably not coming back on." Lorna joined her and they looked out to the street bathed in darkness. All they could see was the heavy flurry of snowflakes, and the beginning of accumulation on the parked cars. 

"It's like in that movie _White Christmas_ , except it's not Christmas," Lorna mused. 

"Listen, I know you live kind of far away. Maybe you should stay here tonight, especially if you have to work tomorrow?"

"Yeah...are you sure?"

"Of course I am. Come one, let me find my extra blankets and we can watch _White Christmas_ , my laptop's all charged up." 

* * *

Hours later, the power was still out and Nicky's phone battery was down to 31% on account of using it as a mobile hotspot. The temperature in the apartment had fallen dramatically, she and Lorna were huddled as closely as possible under two blankets on the couch. The movie had made them both tired, and there really wasn't much else to do but go to bed. 

"Hey, I'd offer to sleep on the couch, but I'm legitimately a little worried about one of us catching hypothermia or something. We should probably share the bed, if you're OK with that. Maximize warmth and all that." Nicky felt bad that Lorna had gotten stuck here when it was cold and the electricity was out, but she couldn't deny the excitement of basically being forced to cuddle with Lorna. Her hair smelled so good, and her body seemed to slot in perfectly against Nicky's. 

"Yeah, I'm OK with it. Thank you Nicky, you've been so generous today."

"It's nothing." 

They got ready for bed, perching a candle on the bathroom sink for light like they were in some kind of Jane Austen novel. Nicky let Lorna borrow a flannel shirt and a pair of sweatpants to sleep in—they were slightly too big for her, but she looked so cosy in them. 

Nicky piled every single blanket she owned onto her bed before they crawled under the covers. There was no awkwardness when Nicky put an arm around Lorna and Lorna nestled her head underneath Nicky's chin. Nicky's mind wasn't even filled with dirty thoughts, she was just grateful for the warmth of another body, and that that other body was Lorna's. Lorna muttered 'good night' into the crook of her neck, and Nicky fell asleep almost instantly with a smile on her face. 

* * *

Nicky woke up shivering. In her sleep, Lorna had rolled to the other side of the bed, taking most of the blankets with her. Rather than wake her up by grabbing them back, Nicky got up and turned the shower on to its hottest setting. 

She was feeling optimistic about things with Lorna. Sharing a bed without sleeping together was a form of intimacy much more advanced than any of Nicky's previous relationships. Maybe this would open the door for further developments—Lorna could stay over whenever she liked and they could do couple things together. 

Nicky let the searing hot water pour over her hair and down her back, rubbing her eyes to wipe away the make-up she didn't take off the night before. There was a tentative rap on the bathroom door, and she poked her head out of the curtain to see Lorna through the steam.

"Hi...can I...can I get in with you? I'm freezing." Lorna did look like she was shivering, her arms hugging her waist. 

"Hold up, I can be out really quickly," Nicky said, reaching for the shampoo. Shower sex was a favourite of hers, but she didn't want to push Lorna.

"I want to get in with you. I promise I won't hog the hot water, please?"

Nicky wondered if the lather from her shampoo had gotten into her ear and she was hearing things. It _sounded_ like Lorna wanted to shower with her. She pulled the curtain back in invitation, and sure enough, Lorna stripped off her clothes and stepped in. She smiled. Nicky was a little dumbfounded. 

Lorna reached her hands up to Nicky's hair and started to massage her scalp, rinsing the soap out. It felt so good, she couldn't help but let out a deep sigh. Once her hair was free of foam, Lorna rotated them so that she was under the shower head. Nicky returned the favour, massaging the rosemary-scented shampoo into Lorna's shorter hair, running her fingers through it gently. 

When Lorna opened her eyes, they were standing a lot closer. Nicky's hand was resting on the back of Lorna's neck, and Lorna was holding her arm. They locked eyes, as if they weren't both completely naked. Finally, Lorna broke eye contact and looked down at Nicky's chest. Usually she was self-conscious about it, but not right now. Lorna seemed to see everything, there was no point in hiding.

Lorna gasped when she noticed the scar, a white line down the centre of her chest. She clutched Nicky's arm tightly and looked back up at her through eyelashes clumped together by the water. "What happened?"

Nicky didn't even consider lying. "Ehh, it was a necessary operation. To make sure all the heroin I'd done wouldn't literally stop my heart from beating."

Lorna's eyes went wide with concern, her mouth turning down into a little pout. "Oh, honey..." She rubbed circles on Nicky's shoulder. 

"I'm OK now," Nicky reassured. She steered Lorna so that her back could rest against the wall and slowly started to lean down, inching their lips closer. When Lorna didn't stop her, she closed the distance and kissed her softly.

But something was wrong. Instead of returning the kiss, Lorna's entire body had gone rigid, like a sudden chill had come over her even though the water from the shower was still hot. Her hands pushed Nicky away, and she clambered ungracefully out of the shower, dripping water everywhere. She grabbed a spare towel, quickly covering herself with it.

"I - I'm sorry, I gotta get to work." 

Lorna left Nicky alone in the shower, where she stood frozen to the spot. She cursed herself for revealing her shameful past. Of course that would drive Lorna away. No one wanted to be with a junkie. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pardon any typos! 
> 
> i debated a lot about what type of music nicky listened to, then i decided, why not exactly what i'm listening to right now (i can't stop listening to sleater-kinney lmao help me)  
> also for her work assignment i chose the band all dogs at random because it's a band i saw play live once, and really enjoyed it. i think they only ever released one album, so the album in this chapter is fictional lol. my fav song of theirs is "that kind of girl", i feel like i'd put it on a nicky nichols playlist if i had one :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to [TheBrightPlaces](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBrightPlaces/pseuds/TheBrightPlaces) for reading this over!

Lorna struggled to pull her jeans on, her legs still wet from the shower she should  _ not  _ have taken. Her entire body was trembling, but not from the cold draft of air in the apartment. She was fucking it all up. Nicky was her friend, she'd decided that she wanted Nicky as a friend. Because Lorna could use one, and Nicky was the closest anyone had come for a long time. Friends texted each other, supported each other, ate together, even had sleepovers together if there was a snowstorm and it made sense to keep each other company. Friends did  _ not _ take showers together. It was Lorna's fault for overstepping the boundary of friendship. 

And she was mad at herself because she'd gotten through the hardest part—sharing the bed. It would have been dumb not to both sleep in the bed, obviously, and Lorna knew that Nicky was being extra civil about it, trying not to make Lorna uncomfortable or put her in any kind of sexual situation. The hug they'd shared before falling asleep was purely platonic, just to conserve body heat between them. 

Sometime in the middle of the night, a snow plow had woken Lorna up and it had taken her several moments to remember where she was and whose arms were wrapped around her. A strand of Nicky's frizzy hair was in her mouth, and their feet were tangled together underneath the covers. When Lorna had shifted to give Nicky some space, the blond nuzzled her cheek against Lorna's hair and slung her arm over Lorna's torso. 

Nicky's breathing had indicated that she was still fast asleep, but the contact had only served to wake Lorna up further. She'd felt her heart rate speed up, remembering what had happened the last time she'd been in Nicky's bed. It had taken all her willpower to roll over to the other side of the bed before she did something stupid. 

The next time she'd woken up, it was in an empty bed. The tips of her ears and nose were cold, and something about the morning felt reminiscent of a snow day, the city a little quieter and slower. She'd heard Nicky in the shower down the hall and went to join her. She hadn't been thinking, her brain hadn't fully woken up yet and she'd forgotten about maintaining distance between her and Nicky. All she'd thought was that it was cold in the apartment and the shower was hot, and then it had felt so good to have someone else lather her hair for her, with so much care and tenderness. It hadn't been until Nicky started to kiss her that she'd snapped out of it—realised that she was standing naked in the shower with another woman, had even brushed her fingers along the scar between her breasts. It'd made her head swirl with all kinds of conflicting thoughts, and she had to leave before Nicky could try to get her to explain herself. She didn't think she'd be able to put it into words.

Lorna had no idea what time it was since her phone was dead and the power was still out. From Nicky's window, she could see that the plows had been through the streets enough for people to go about their business, side-stepping the enormous piles of snow along the sidewalk. Lorna figured her shift at Starbucks was probably not cancelled, so she didn't feel guilty for telling Nicky she had to go to work. If she was late, she could blame it on the icy roads—as far as her manager was concerned, she had a half-hour commute to work. 

In the same clothes she'd worn yesterday, Lorna quickly gathered the few things she'd brought and headed to the door. The leftover chocolate chip cookies were still sitting on the coffee table, the entire living room covered with all the candles they'd used to light the apartment. Lorna felt like she was leaving the scene of a crime, sneaking out before she did any more damage. 

When she wrenched open the door, Lorna gasped as she nearly ran face-first into a middle-aged woman with crimson-red hair. Her lips were also a bright red, and the harshness of her gaze was accentuated by a rigid eyeliner. For a split second they stared straight into each other's eyes, each of them equally surprised by the appearance of the other across the threshold. 

"Is Nicky home?" asked the woman, in an Eastern-European accent and confrontational tone. 

Lorna nodded imperceptibly, terrified not only of the older woman but also of what Nicky would say to her if she found out she'd let someone she wasn't supposed to into the apartment. "She's in the shower," she said in a very small voice. Lorna stepped aside to let the woman in, then darted out the door as quickly as possible, not looking back as she tore down the stairs. 

* * *

Nicky felt all tired out by the time she shut off the water. The heat from the water hadn't managed to cleanse her of her self-hatred, but it had managed to dehydrate her body and add to the ache inside her chest. She stepped dejectedly out of the shower and dried off her hair with a towel. 

She heard the sound of someone in the living room—Nicky had a loose grip on the passage of time, but surely she had given Lorna enough time to leave, as she so clearly wanted to do? Nicky wrapped the towel around her body and tentatively stuck her head out into the hallway. It didn't sound like Lorna, unless the work she'd been referring to when she rushed out of the shower was cleaning Nicky's entire apartment. 

Nicky stepped out of the bathroom to where she had a full view of the living room. 

"Red?" 

The Russian woman who'd taken Nicky under her wing at the weekly NA meetings turned around from where she was energetically gathering the pile of recycling into a bag. "Nicky, there you are. Who was that pretty girl I ran into, she left in such a hurry I couldn't even ask for her name. Not an old dealer, I hope? Although I'd be surprised, she looks about as innocent as a baby deer." 

"What the fuck?" Nicky stepped forward, forgetting that she was still in just a towel and dripping water on the floor. "What the fuck are you doing here?" 

"I was worried about you, you wouldn't answer your phone and I figured you probably hadn't stocked up with nourishing food before the storm. I brought you some fresh pierogies from the restaurant." Red gestured to a container wrapped in tin foil that smelled like a delicious mixture of fresh pastry dough and mashed potatoes. 

"Yeah, thanks, I can take care of myself actually." Red was kind of like a mother substitute to Nicky, a mother who actually had motherly instincts to spare for lost-case heroin addicts. That didn't mean that Nicky still didn't lash out at her sometimes. 

"I see clean dishes on the rack and leftover food in the fridge," Red exclaimed, turning back to the recycling. "Maybe you  _ can  _ take care of yourself. Or was it that girl? You still haven't said who she was, you know, I'm not that stupid. I know when you're avoiding a subject." Red fixed her with that piercing glare and Nicky felt the intensity of it as she had the last time she'd nearly relapsed and had to call Red to dig her out of the hole of her own creation. 

"She's just a friend," Nicky replied, feeling a sting at the back of her throat. 

Red raised her eyebrows in that disbelieving way she had. "Why don't you go dry off and put on something warm, yes? Then you can come out here and we can talk. I'll fix you a coffee and a plate of food. Now go." 

* * *

Lorna was really good at pretending everything was OK. It was what she did when nosy women in her neighbourhood asked her how her mother was (Lorna had a knack for making it sound like her mother was in excellent health, when in reality she spent the majority of her days bed-ridden). She was good at implying that Franny was not a single mother, but in fact married to a very successful man who had to travel a lot for work. 

So serving coffee while keeping a lid on her emotions was not the most difficult task for her. No one noticed that she was wearing the same clothes as yesterday, and she was on time to her shift so there was no need to explain herself. Not that she would've needed to, with the snow being the perfect excuse. 

The beginning of the shift was easy—slightly slower than a normal day, she was able to recharge her phone and answer Franny's worried texts. Franny knew about Nicky, in that Lorna had told her that Nicky was a regular Starbucks customer on account of her caffeine addiction, and that they were friends. The storm once again came in as a perfect excuse for staying the night and not answering messages—it had been beyond Lorna's control, and she'd done the right thing. She was lucky that Nicky had been so hospitable. 

Lorna couldn't shake the sense of dread in the pit of her stomach, though. Her eyes flickered constantly to the door, where she was sure that at any minute Nicky would come marching in to tell her off. There had been something in Nicky's eyes when Lorna had pushed her away, some glimmer of betrayal, and Lorna was sure that Nicky would never forgive her. 

The mask of normalcy that she very carefully upheld during times of turmoil finally broke when an entitled customer asked for a lucky charms frappuccino off the secret menu. Lorna had never had to prepare an item from the secret menu before, and the man was being very impatient which increased her uncertainty. They were low on staff today, and Flaca was busy trying to fix the malfunctioning espresso machine while Tiffany was on a smoke break. 

Suddenly Lorna desperately needed to take a break herself. She felt like she was holding everything in, and soon it was all going to come spilling out, preferably not in front of the customers. She ran off to the back room just in time, apologising to Flaca before bursting into tears. 

* * *

Nicky emerged from her room in a clean pair of jeans and an oversized hoodie. The electricity had come back on while she was changing, and Red had boiled the water for the French press and arranged some pierogies on a plate with a dollop of sour cream. Nicky lit a cigarette and flopped down on the sofa, propping her feet up on the coffee table. 

"So," Red ventured, "who is this girl who is just a friend?" She pushed an ashtray across the table, then set down the coffee and pierogies, taking a seat in the armchair across from her. For a moment Nicky felt like she was at the shrink, minus the frantic notepad-scribbling. 

"Ehhhh," Nicky started off mumbling. "She works downstairs at the Starbucks, we talk sometimes while she's making me coffee. End of story." She took a long drag on her cigarette. 

Red's mouth twitched like she was holding back a laugh. "That doesn't explain what she was doing walking out of your apartment at 7:30 in the morning. You never let girls spend the night, Nicky, unless you're hiding a relationship from me?"

Nicky blew out smoke with more force than necessary. 

"I can tell you're upset," Red continued, "and I'm only trying to help you. It's better for you to talk about what's bothering you rather than letting it all marinate in that hot head of yours. You know no good can come of that." She gave Nicky a meaningful look over the rim of her glasses. 

Nicky rolled her eyes but gave in. It was no use resisting Red. "I fucked it up already. I was trying to take it slow so I didn't scare her away like I did the first time I slept with her, which is why I let her spend the night because of the storm, but I didn't try anything with her. But then she freaked out when I told her why I have a fucking scar in the middle of my chest, and she'll probably never talk to me again. It was hard enough getting her to come around again after the first time." Nicky angrily poured herself a mug of coffee and took an enormous bite of a pierogi. It succeeded in making her feel a little better, the delicious potato and mushroom filling sticking to the back of her throat before she washed it down with scalding coffee. 

"If you were taking it slow, how did she see your scar?" Red asked, perplexed. 

Nicky shrugged. "Hey, it isn't my fault she stepped right into the shower with me."

"So maybe  _ she  _ didn't want to take it slow and she was frustrated with you for not responding to her cues?"

"Na, that's not it. She totally clammed up when I tried to kiss her."

Red shook her head and waved a hand in the air. "This is more than I'm equipped to help with. Have you tried talking to your neighbour Boo about it? She's a lesbian, isn't she?"

Nicky scoffed. "I don't need relationship advice from Boo, thanks. I’m good."

"Alright." Red held up her hands. "I just want you to be happy, Nicky. Do you really like this girl? Whose name you still haven't told me, by the way."

Nicky let out a big sigh. "Her name's Lorna. And yeah, I really do like her, Red. I felt like she really understood me."

"Well maybe she'll understand you better if you explain how you feel. Maybe all you need to do is go talk to her, patch things up, yes? It can't be that bad."

* * *

Lorna was finally able to stop sobbing into her apron and was about to dart into the staff bathroom to compose herself so she could get back to work, when Flaca barged into the staffroom. 

"Lorna, that chick who's not your girlfriend, with the eyes that look like they're upside down? She just walked in and she's lookin' for you. Do you want me to tell her you're back here? It's not that busy, me and Tiff can cover for you."

"Nicky's here?" Lorna rubbed the tears away from her eyes, probably getting mascara everywhere in the process. 

"Yeah, she said she didn't even want any coffee, she just wants to talk to you. Hold up, I'll bring her back here."

Flaca disappeared, leaving Lorna to frantically wipe her runny nose on her apron and wonder if Nicky was here to yell at her or tell her to stay away from her. She had hoped that maybe the blond would just do it over text so that Lorna didn't have to look her in the eye. 

"Lorna?" Nicky popped her head around the door and rapped gently. Her voice was also gentle, which reassured Lorna a little. "What's the matter?"

Lorna twirled a strand of hair between her fingers and avoided Nicky's gaze. "Nothin', I'm just taking a break." 

Nicky stepped closer. "You got mascara running down your cheeks, kid. Is everything OK? Is it about what happened this morning?” Nicky sighed heavily and pushed the curtain of tangled hair away from her face. “I should've told you I had a drug problem before, I'm sorry for leading you on and shit without telling you the truth." Nicky looked earnest, like she really believed that she had harmed Lorna.

"Oh, Nicky," Lorna sighed, reaching out to hold Nicky's arm, the exact place where she had held her earlier that morning under the shower. "That's not what I got all upset about. I'm sorry you thought that. I should be apologising to you, for being all weird and just getting in the shower with you."

Nicky chuckled, as if she was breathing a sigh of relief. "I'm not gonna lie, that kind of gave me mixed signals. I'm sorry for kissing you though, I still should've checked with you first. Maybe from now on we take it slow, keep the clothes on?" 

"Yeah, well, there's something I gotta tell you, too, Nicky. Please don't be mad at me?" 

"I won't get mad, what is it?" Nicky looked into her eyes and Lorna almost wanted to spill all her insecurities to her, let her dismantle all the unsettling and confusing thoughts storming Lorna's mind. But she had to protect herself, and this was the only solution she could come up with at the moment that would explain her actions and keep Nicky in her life, but also make sure she didn't get too overwhelmed by the conflicting feelings she was having. 

"The reason that I freaked out when you kissed me is that I...have a boyfriend." Lorna looked up to see how Nicky was taking her lie. Her dark brown eyes were darting back and forth between Lorna's, wide and vulnerable. Nicky didn't say anything, so Lorna continued, for better or worse. "I really wanted to sleep with you again, I even thought about it when you were asleep in the middle of the night, I thought about waking you up so we could have sex. And my boyfriend doesn't care if I do that, I can sleep with a woman and it's not cheating. I just can't do things like kiss you. 'Cos, you know, it's too romantic." Lorna looked up again to see Nicky shaking her head with an incredulous look on her face.

"So you could have my tongue in your pussy every single day and it wouldn't count as cheating, but the second I put my tongue in your mouth, that's a violation of your super romantic relationship, huh?" 

Lorna blushed. "You don't gotta be so vulgar about it."

Nicky huffed and ran her hand through her hair. "He gets off on the idea of you doing it with a woman then, is that it? Well, that's OK by me, isn't it? Why didn't you tell me you were horny last night, I could've made you come nine times, maybe more!" The blond wiggled her eyebrows and stuck her tongue out at Lorna. She seemed to be taking it very lightly, which Lorna couldn't decide was a good thing or a bad thing. At least she didn't seem mad, which was a positive. 

"That's not very classy," Lorna scolded Nicky. She was met with laughter. 

"Hey, well now that it's been established that I should treat you like Richard Gere treats Julia Roberts in  _ Pretty Woman _ , what d'you say we go do something fun in all the snow, like ice skating. Is your boyfriend OK with you doing that sort of thing with me?"

Lorna hoped that Nicky wasn't going to continue asking about her boyfriend—not that she'd have any trouble making things up about him, it just made her feel worse for lying to her. "We can go after I finish my shift, I still have an hour left." She patted her under eyes, trying to see if there was still makeup on her cheeks. "How do I look?" 

"You look hot, let's just get you some hot water to freshen up your face, yeah?" Nicky guided Lorna to the bathroom with a protective arm around her shoulder.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm [georginabulsara](https://georginabulsara.tumblr.com/) on tumblr
> 
> I did make a playlist after all (I made Nicky a radio dj, i kind of had to lmao), [here's the link!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/32EmMA3DZpQePUb3yswMT3)


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